


Entwined

by TheClassics4



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClassics4/pseuds/TheClassics4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gold and Moe French have a long history together, going back to before Belle was born, that would make having a relationship with Mr. Gold very complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Why don’t you ever come out with us?” Ruby asked. It was getting dark and she’d insisted on walking Belle home. They always spent their Friday nights together even if it was only to eat.

“Come out with you where?” Belle scoffed, “There isn’t anywhere in this town to really do anything.”

“Sure there is! There’s the bar—”

“In the back of the bowling alley? Yeah, that’s the place to party.”

“Well, it’s something! You can’t always just hide away up in your dad’s house all year.”

They had reached Belle’s house by now and she sighed, “I know. I just—I came home to help my dad out and that’s what I’m going to do. He needs my help.”

Rolling her eyes, Ruby shook her head, “Every single weekend, though? C’mon that’s torture! That’s exploitation of his labor force!”

“Next weekend. I promise we’ll do something. But tonight’s not good.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow, “Fine. But if you back out on me—”

“I won’t.”

“Not even for Grant?”

“Especially not for Grant,” Belle assured her with a laugh.

“Ooh, trouble in your little bubble?” Ruby suddenly looked as if she weren’t going to move from the street.

“No!” Belle said and said it again to reassure herself, “No, we’ve just been spending a lot of time together. I need time for myself. For my friends.”

“Damn straight!” Ruby put an arm around her and started walking her up to the house. “So next weekend, we can go to the bar… then we can watch a movie.” She added the last part for Belle’s sake. Going to bars was not one of Belle’s favorite pastimes and Ruby knew it. Most of the time they compromised. And when they didn’t want to compromise, Belle stayed home.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.” Ruby hugged her goodbye and when Belle came inside, she could smell that her dad had been trying to make dinner. The burning smell proved that it had been unsuccessful.

“Dad?” she called, setting her purse and coat down

“In here.”

Following her father’s voice led her to the dining room. He was sitting at the table. A take-out box from granny’s sat in front of him while he read the newspaper.

“I would have got you some,” he gestured to the box, “But I figured you’d already eaten.”

“Yeah,” Belle retrieved her book from the table as she went to open a window.

“Belle, it’s freezing outside,” her father protested.

“It smells awful in here,” she opened another window, “Put on a jacket.”

Her father was right. The air coming in through the windows felt like ice, but the burning smell was giving her a headache. Maurice stopped her at the door.

“I probably won’t be back until late.” he said.

“Mr. Gold?”

Her father nodded.

“Didn’t you just see him a week ago?”

Sighing, Maurice stood, “Belle, you know how he is.”

Belle didn’t know exactly what they did when Mr. Gold got like this, but it couldn’t be good for their budget. Mr. Gold had no issue with money, but Belle and Maurice struggled. Mr. Gold knew that.

Maurice never said anything on the matter. And Belle supposed, if her father didn’t complain neither should she. Mr. Gold was not someone she’d ever been overly thrilled about. Or someone she’d been overly intimidated by. They had spoken on a few occasions—cordial greetings and a few lines of small talk.

There were rumors about Mr. Gold, about awful thing’s he done. He’d beat a man to death with his cane, he’d kidnapped a baby. But there were rumors about everyone in the town. A few years ago, there had been a rumor that Ruby had been pregnant. That had died away in six or seven months when she didn’t start showing. It was the same with Mr. Gold. He would be in prison by now if he’d done all the things he was accused of.

Belle made a point not to believe even the less serious rumors about Mr. Gold. She didn’t know him well enough to think either way.

Her father had his own opinions on Mr. Gold, but they were more than a bit bias. Someday Mr. Gold would do something and Belle would form her own opinion on the man. Until then, she would remain neutral.

Wrapping a blanket around her, Belle sat in her favorite chair. She’d barely been reading when the phone rang. There were only a few people who would call their house this late—Mr. Gold to cancel, or the mayor with one of her errands.

Maurice talked in a voice too low for Belle to hear, but he came through the door, shrugging on his coat.

“I have to run to the shop for a few minutes.” Belle’s father was shrugging on his coat. She turned to look at him.

The mayor, then.

“Didn’t you just say that Mr. Gold was coming over?”

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Maurice assured her. “If he does get here, let him in and offer him a drink.”

“What does she need this time?” Belle set her book down.

“Don’t know. Just said flowers. Lots of flowers,” he said and with a nod goodbye, he was gone.

Once she’d returned to her book. It was not exactly an intriguing book, but it was one of the few in the library she hadn’t read yet. It was marked romance, but still had a bit of action written in. But mostly it was romance. Strong romance.

Just as the main character was letting the love interest take her top of, there was a knock at the door. Belle jumped as if she’d been caught committing a crime. Standing, Belle let out a breath as she tucked the book back into the cushions.

The clock said her father had only been gone ten minutes and she opened the door to see Mr. Gold waiting on the porch.

“Hi, Mr. Gold,” she said with a smile.

“Good evening, dear,” he said. “Is your father here?”

“Uh, no,” she said opening the door. He entered as she waved him in, “Someone needed a last minute order. He should be here soon. Would you like something to drink?”

“The usual, please.” He rested his cane on the edge of the coffee table as he sat down.

“Okay.”

She didn’t know why she felt nervous, but she always did around Mr. Gold. He always seemed so formal and made her feel sloppy if she didn’t do the same. Her clothing had been fine before. He had arrived in a suit and tie. Her jeans and sweater made her feel as if she were in her most ragged sweats.

The water took an eternity to boil and Belle fidgeted. Mr. Gold was patient, but Belle didn’t like to keep him waiting. Her father would be home soon and the tea would most likely not be done before he returned.

But it was.

Belle quickly added the leaves and when she glanced at the clock, it had been almost a half hour since Maurice had gone. She would call him if he didn’t arrive soon.

When Belle came back into the entry way, Mr. Gold was sitting in the same position as before, only looking up when she entered. With a quiet ‘thank you’, he took the teacup and blew on the steaming surface. His leather gloves rested on his thigh and he wrapped his hands around the cup.

Before she could make herself awkward by standing next to him, she sat on the chair to the left.

“Do you always have the windows open in February?”

“Oh,” Belle scrambled to her feet. She’d almost forgotten about the windows. The smell was gone and now all that was left was cold night air. “My father tried cooking. The house smelled like it had caught fire.”

“Ah,” he watched as she took her seat again. The blanket was still wrapped around her shoulders. It was bright pink with fuzzy tassels along the edge. Ruby had given it to her when they were thirteen and it suddenly made Belle feel even more uncomfortable.

It was ridiculous that Mr. Gold could come into her own house and make her feel extremely underdressed, but she shrugged the blanket off anyway and started to fold it in her lap.

“How are you liking school?” he asked, looking up from his tea.

“Uh, it’s good.”

“Mm,” he nodded and took a sip. Belle watched him and spoke of the first thing that came to her head.

“We’re reading Lolita in my lit class.”

“Isn’t that a bit mature for you?” he asked over his drink.

“How mature do you have to be? I am almost 21.”

Pausing, he furrowed his brow, “You’re already twenty?”

“For almost a whole year now.”

When he smiled, she tried not to stare. In all the time she’d known him, Belle had never seen him smile. He had a gold tooth she’d never noticed. It felt like some kind of accomplishment. As if getting Mr. Gold to grin was discovering the cure for cancer. 

“Well, you can’t expect me to remember everything at my age,” he said.

“You’re no older than my father. And his memory’s fine.”

Mr. Gold gave an actual laugh this time before sipping his tea again. “And are you enjoying it? The book?”

“Yeah. I’ve already read it, though…twice,” she added.

“Must make the class easier.” His smile didn’t disappear and she grinned back at him.

“Yeah, well, at least this section.”

He nodded and looked back at his tea. Just as she thought she was starting to think they were going to have a real conversation for the first time, they’d lulled back into silence and Belle folded her hands in her lap.

“I, uh,” Belle stood, “I’ll call my father.”

She left him once more and when she dialed the number, she waited with her back to the front room. It rang until the voicemail.

“If he wants to reschedule—” Mr. Gold said from the door, causing Belle to jump. His cane hadn’t made any sound that he’d moved. If he didn’t lean so heavily on it, Belle might have wondered if he really needed it at all.

“No, I sure he doesn’t,” Belle said, “He really wanted to see you. It must be the mayor—”

Another knock on the door made her pause. Both she and Mr. Gold turned to look through the doorway.

“Expecting someone else?” he asked.

Shaking her head, Belle hurried to the door. The worst thoughts had come to mind. Storybrooke wasn’t a dangerous town, but crime happened anywhere. And her father was never late.

When she threw open the door, she was torn between punching her boyfriend in the face and hugging him in relief. She settled for the latter.

“Hey,” he said, embracing her enthusiastically.

“God, I thought you were my dad or the sheriff or something,” she finally released him to see him looking over her shoulder. Remembering Mr. Gold, she quickly stepped away. He was making his way back to the sofa.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account.” When he was finally sitting, he watched them, “Proceed.”

“Grant, this is Mr. Gold,” she said, “Mr. Gold this is Grant.”

“I know, I’m his landlord.”

Grant forced out a smile and took Belle by the hand to lead her to the kitchen.

“What the hell is Mr. Gold doing here?”

“He’s here to see my dad.”

“Belle, don’t let your dad deal with Mr. Gold. What does he need, maybe I can get it for him.”

“No, he doesn’t need anything. It’s not—”

“Belle,” Maurice came pushing through the garage door, struggling with bags of flowers in each hand and even more shoved under his arms, “Could I get your help?”

Belle rushed over to hold the door open and her father continued, “Damned woman expects me to have all these in by Valentines’ day.”

“That’s in three days,” Belle took the roses under his arms and set them on the counter.

“I know,” Maurice sighed as he put the rest of the flowers down. “There’s even more in the van, too. Thirty dozen roses to be labeled and delivered. Oh,” he finally glanced up, seeing Grant for the first time, “Hello, Grant.”

“Hello, sir.”

“Is Gold here?”

“Yeah, he’s—”

“Right here, Moe,” Mr. Gold was coming around the corner, “Did I hear right? That Regina wants all these?”

“Yeah,” Maurice shook his head.

“What’s she going to do with them?” Gold limped forward and Grant tried to causally move out of his way. Unfortunately, Mr. Gold noticed and waved him back with a hand. “She doesn’t exactly have many valentine’s day callers.”

“Something for the hospital and a separate thing at the cemetery,” Maurice watched as Gold picked up a rose and examined it. “Of course she’d been too busy to give me a call beforehand, but knows that I can get this done.”

“We can do this another night,” Gold started.

“Nah,” Maurice shook his head. He hadn’t bothered to take his jacket off but he zipped it back up. “I can get to this tomorrow.”

“I’ll start tonight,” Belle added. “I’ve got nothing else to do.”

Grant cleared his throat and nudged her playfully in the side.

“Well, nothing of import,” Mr. Gold added shifting his weight as Maurice came around the table. Belle couldn’t suppress a smile. Mr. Gold’s eyes met hers and she immediately looked away.

Maurice put his hand on Mr. Gold’s shoulder and smiled as he winced. The gesture was intended to do just that. Knowing that Mr. Gold was not an affectionate person, Maurice delighted in any chance he could to invade his personal space with a pat to his shoulder or if he felt daring, a side hug.

Mr. Gold was the complete opposite of Belle’s father in every way, even in physical appearance. Mr. Gold was barely taller than Bell herself and looked sickly thin next to her father. How their personalities matched together, Belle wouldn’t ever understand.

Maurice was kind, always giving to charity, complimenting Belle whenever the chance arose. Mr. Gold…well he wasn’t exactly Mother Teresa. But they had been friends since they were younger than Belle. They balanced each other out. Mr. Gold kept Maurice grounded in reality. Maurice kept Gold from doing anything illegal.

It was no secret that Mr. Gold had more money than the French’s. And it was no secret that Mr. Gold was lonely. Their relationship had mutual benefits for each other. One day, Belle knew, that her father would tire of Mr. Gold’s methods. Or one day Mr. Gold would tire of Maurice like he did everyone.

But for now, they were as good friends as they’d been in high school.

Mr. Gold shrugged him off and Maurice laughed.

“I’ll be back around midnight,” Maurice told her before leaving for the front door.

For just a moment, Mr. Gold stayed back. He met Belle’s eyes before holding out the rose he’d been examining.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it. She felt like she should be curtsying, but she just gave him an awkward nod, which he returned before leaving.

Grant didn’t even wait for the closing door to signal they’d left.

“God, what a perv,” he said. He was already making his way over to the refrigerator.

“A rose makes him a perv? Some girls might call it chivalry.” Belle smelled the rose and smiled when she pictured Mr. Gold’s expression when he’d presented her with it.

“Chivalry’s dead,” Grant said without turning. Belle looked up. It didn’t surprise her Grant thought that way. They knew each other well and she knew Grant’s dating habits. Still…sometimes Belle wondered if she liked those dating habits.

Was it normal to look at the person you were dating and wish they were different? Surely, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Belle had thought of this before, wondering if Grant was really the person for her. But Grant didn’t seem to want more than what they had. He was content to be her casual boyfriend and nothing more. They’d never spoken of marriage or of kids or of living together.

They had slept together one time. It had been at Grant’s apartment last summer. It had been nice, he’d been nice, letting her stay the night. But it still seemed like too much of a commitment, that it made them too serious together. For both of them.

Suddenly, it dawned on her. They hadn’t kissed in over a month. They didn’t hold hands when they went out. Grant was her friend and nothing more. Grant was not her boyfriend. Yes, she called him by the name, but if this was what being together was she might as well call all her friends her lovers.

“Grant. Are we…together?”

“What’d you mean?”

“Are we still a couple?”

Grant paused with his hand still inside the bag of chips, “Yeah, of course.”

“Maybe…we shouldn’t be…”

“You want to break up?”

“I don’t know. It just kind of seems like we’re friends instead of a couple. We haven’t kissed in a month…”

Shaking his head, Grant set the bag down and came around to face her. She could tell what he was going to do and she almost laughed. He looked so determined about it, like she were some kind of puzzle. Placing both hands on her shoulder, he leaned down and kissed her.

His lips stayed on hers for longer than any kiss they’d shared before. Still, it could have been considered a long peck. His lips stayed closed, her hands didn’t wander, his eyes were open.

When he leaned back, he sighed. Holding out his hand, he gave only a little smile, “Friends?”

“Are you kidding,” Belle shook his hand and stood, “I think we’ve always been friends.”

Laughing, he nodded, “Can I help you with the flowers, then?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Belle noticed the rose she still held in her hands. From Mr. Gold. They sat at the table and Grant took the note cards from the bags. Belle set the rose down, careful to put it away from the rest of the flowers, before Grant could notice she still had it.


	2. Chapter 2

Grant had left more than two hours ago and Belle was barely awake as she sat in the armchair. When Maurice touched her shoulder, she jumped, the book slipping from her hands.

“You didn’t need to wait for me,” he said.

“I know,” she mumbled and pushed herself to her feet. “What time is it?”

“Almost two thirty.”

“We got most o’ the flowers done,” she waved at the table, noticing Mr. Gold leaning on his cane, one hand on the back of a chair. She’d barely noticed him, but when she saw he was there, she smoothed out her hair.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Go to bed now,” Maurice said patting her on the shoulder.

“M’kay.” She was anything but graceful as she maneuvered around the furniture. The one time she looked up, her eyes went to Mr. Gold and he was fingering the single rose she’d left out of the bouquets.

“Goodnight,” he said, barely glancing up as she passed him.

“Night.”

Sleep came easily again when she was back in her bed and in the morning, or afternoon really, when she woke, her father was in the kitchen. He was making coffee and looked exhausted when she came through the doorway.

“Morning,” he greeted and handed her the mug he was about to sip from, which she waved away.

“What time did Mr. Gold leave last night?”

Moe put a finger up to his lips and gestured to the living room. Though he was facing away from them, Belle recognized Mr. Gold’s hair and suit clad shoulders over the back of the couch.

“He stayed the whole night?” Belle whispered. “Did you sleep at all?”

Maurice held up his mug, “That’s what this is for.”

“Dad, you—”

“It’s alright, Belle. I don’t mind it.”

When she looked again, Mr. Gold hadn’t moved. “You have to talk to him about this.”

“About what?”

“It might not matter to him if he loses a day of work, but for us—”

“It was just one night. He needed it.”

“I know, I know. He’s lonely. Why doesn’t he get married? Or get a dog or something?”

“I don’t think marriage would work out for him again.”

“Again?” Belle asked, glancing back to the couch. “He was married?”

“Mm,” Moe swallowed his coffee and set the mug down, “with a son.”

Belle tried to picture what Mr. Gold would be like with a child. Somehow she thought he wouldn’t be very good with children.

But then, a vivid image popped into her head before she could stop it. If Mr. Gold had been married…with a son… he would have to have…Belle squashed the thought, but not before a very naked image of Mr. Gold flashed across her mind. “W—what happened?”

“She ran away with some bloke in the navy. It was only a few months before you were born.”

“And his son?”

Moe shook his head, “He ran away a few years after. Gold was different after Mia left, he—well you know what he’s like now. Bay wasn’t going to put up with it.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t change anything.”

“If anything it made him worse,” shaking his head, Moe stepped around her, “Gold!”

Mr. Gold bolted awake at Moe’s voice, sharply turning. “Oh,” he blinked a few times as Moe came toward him, “Have I outstayed my welcome?”

“I just have to go to work now,” Moe said, watching Mr. Gold shrug on his suit jacket.

Belle tried not to watch, but he looked more disheveled than she could have ever pictured him. His hair was rumpled in the back and his tie completely undone around his neck. It made him look more human and for the first time, she thought he actually looked like someone Belle could talk to on even footing.

“What did you guys do last night? Looks like you just got back from a frat party,” Belle laughed as Mr. Gold smoothed his hair.

“Nothing illegal,” Mr. Gold assured her. He stepped forward as he started to fix his tie. “I do like to keep that to a minimum,” stopping not even a foot in front of her, Belle could smell a light scent of alcohol on him—scotch if she remembered Jefferson’s choice drink correctly. He reached out, leaning toward her. His eyes were fixed on hers, but his hand didn’t touch her. When he leaned back, he had his cane in his grip.

“Good,” she said dumbly and Mr. Gold gave her a smile.

“I’ll show myself out,” he said and though he spoke to her father, he still looked at her.

Moving aside, she let him pass. Her father followed him; Belle didn’t look at him, though she was certain he wouldn’t have noticed anything…if there had been anything to notice.

Before Maurice could come back, Belle retreated back into her bedroom. She was sure she’d imagined…whatever it was she thought. The look on Mr. Gold’s face really hadn’t been anything but his normal expressions.

She grabbed the book from her nightstand, but it stayed closed in her lap.

There wasn’t any reason for her to be thinking of Mr. Gold. She’d never thought anything of him before. Ever. Let alone in a sexual manner. But the picture of Mr. Gold in bed still nagged her thoughts.

Her father knocked on the door, “I’m leaving now. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” Belle called back and she rubbed her eyes. Before Moe had been gone for even two minutes, the phone was ringing. Sighing, Belle stood from her bed. She’d just gotten her concentration into the book and the ringing annoyed her.

“Hello?”

“Belle, hey.” It was Grant’s voice.

“Hey…”

“Uh, I was just wondering…” Grant laughed, sounding awkward, “Do I still have to get you a Valentine’s gift?”

“Oh. No, it’s fine.”

“Really? Because I will. But you said we were just friends, so…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay…Uh, do you wanna go do dinner tomorrow?”

“But tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, I know. But I don’t have a date and I don’t really want to be alone.”

“Um…” Belle had never been fond of Valentine’s Day. The holiday was far too pretentious. It was a day for couples to show off that they were in love, a superficial day with no real meaning behind it.

Grant had always been adamant about making sure Belle had a good Valentine’s Day, but he always made an event out of it. Love shouldn’t have to be a show. It was again another reason she was glad to have ended it with Grant. Now that she didn’t have a boyfriend, Belle wasn’t sure she wanted to go through with it anymore.

“Please Belle, I already made reservations,” he pleaded—whined almost.

“Fine,” she conceded and hung up the phone without a goodbye.

When Belle exited her bedroom, she was drawn to the rose still lying on the table. It would bloom in a few days and would stay fresh a little longer. In their cupboards, they had plenty of vases. The one she chose had a thin bridge and was made of crystal. Belle admired it for a few minutes before setting it on the table.

Belle spent the day cleaning as much of the house as she could. For most of the week, she worked with her father and the house always looked a little…lived in by the weekend. With the laundry going and the dishes in the washer, Belle vacuumed the living room and scrubbed her bathroom.

By afternoon, the house was much improved and Belle felt very accomplished. She liked feeling productive and rewarded herself with another hour or two of reading. That too was neglected while she worked with her father. There was barely any time during the week for her to sit and read.

Ruby called, but Belle ignored her phone. She knew what the request would be. A double date with her and Archie was not something Belle was eager to accept.

Her father came home earlier than usual. He made only something small for dinner and immediately retired to bed. The book was almost finished, making Belle stay in her chair late into the night. It ended dreadfully with the father with anger issues being forgiven by all his family suddenly within the last chapter.

***

The next night Belle was ready to go an hour early. Grant was always too excited and showed up outrageously early. Maybe that meant the night could be ended early as well. So she sat and waited in the front room, knowing he’d be there soon.

Just as she suspected, the doorbell rang. Belle hadn’t even been sitting for ten minutes. When she opened the door, Grant immediately held out a rose. It was pink and there was one of her father’s ribbons tied around it, reading, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’. He smiled expectantly.

“Thought I’d take Mr. Gold’s lead and try to be a bit more romantic,” he waved the flower a bit and Belle forced a smile as she took it.

It would have been sweet had she not known exactly why he’d gotten it for her. Just another Valentine’s Day show. “Thanks.”

That was the end of his romance display. He hadn’t brought his car, not taking into account that she might be wearing heels. He offered to go get his car, but it wasn’t far to the diner.

The night wasn’t completely horrible. It was like a night with Ruby, only with less talk about relationships. Dinner was nice as long as she didn’t look around at the couples around them.

By the time they’d left, the night had gotten colder. Belle hugged her jacket around her as they walked. Their conversation was starting to die down. She was tired and he seemed to be sad the night was closing.

“Out!”

Belle recognized the voice behind her. She turned, seeing Mr. Gold’s shop door swinging open. He was on the sidewalk standing over a crumpled figure.

“Please, Mr. Gold,” the figure turned toward them, revealing Dr. Whale, lying on the floor. “I want—”

“I’m done negotiating.”

“I just need—”

“No. You agreed to my terms.”

Dr. Whale tried to sit up and was stopped by Mr. Gold pushing his cane into the man’s chest. “Your terms were ridiculous!”

“And yet you agreed to them. Don’t come back to me, Victor.”

Giving Dr. Whale another shove with the end of his cane, Mr. Gold retreated back into his shop. Dr. Whale looked around. When he spotted them watching, he scrambled to his feet and started running in the opposite direction.

“Crazy bastard,” Grant muttered. He put a hand on Belle’s back and turned her away.

The rest of the walk home was silent and when they finally arrived at Belle’s house, Grant offered to walk her to her door, but Belle declined, “No, it’s okay. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, maybe we could do this—”

“Grant,” Belle shook her head, “I was serious when I said I wanted to break up. Tonight wasn’t…we’re friends.”

“Okay…” he nodded and slumped away.

Belle sighed as she turned back to her house. It was dark inside and quiet, except for her father’s snoring through his door. The kitchen was still somewhat clean. A few pots and pans were in the sink and the empty carton of milk was open on the counter.

What caught her attention, though, was the thick binder on the table. Belle had only seen many times before. It came out on holidays and anniversaries and when her father was feeling nostalgic. Setting the milk carton down, she went to the table. It had been years since she’d actually looked at the pictures herself. She didn’t like to look at them.They were of a family she didn’t remember—a mother she didn’t remember.

Still, she found herself sitting and opening to the first page. It was her parents’ wedding. Her father was young and her mother looked like she always appeared to Belle. She was a very pretty woman and Belle definitely could see their resemblance. Her mother had given her her eyes and her small height.

Belle had spent her time missing her mother. Sometimes there were times she still missed her. Like now. She guessed that’s why she’d sat down. She wanted someone to talk to about Grant, someone that would listen to her just to listen.

Slowly, Belle flipped the page over. Their wedding had been one big party. Belle could see it just from the pictures. The one picture of everyone in attendance showed about one hundred fifty people there.

Mr. Gold was there. Of course he was, she’d seen him in these pictures before. He’d been her father’s groomsmen, second only to Belle’s uncle. He looked younger. His hair was shorter without so much greying and his ever-present cane was absent. There was only one picture in which he was smiling, one where he obviously had no knowledge he was being photographed.

The next section was Belle’s baby shower. Her mother looked the same as she had at her wedding, save for the rounded stomach. Her mother was rubbing her stomach in every picture. Belle felt her throat tighten and she turned the page before she could think on it longer.

Mr. Gold was in these pictures as well. He didn’t smile in any of these either. Even the ones where he wasn’t aware of the camera, he stood stoically. There was an empty look on his face, something behind the hard expression. When he did look at the camera, she recognized it.

Her father had always said that Mr. Gold was lonely. As Belle sat there, looking at this picture taken 20 years ago when his wife had left, she could see just how true it was.

The further she got into the book, birthdays, holidays, looking out for Mr. Gold, it was clear the time when his son had left.

It was a Christmas and only one photograph included him. The picture was really of Belle, she was opening a small present, but Mr. Gold sat on the couch behind her. Belle couldn’t look away from the photograph and her heart ached for him.

This photograph was different. He didn’t look as he did in the earlier pages. He looked much worse. He didn’t only look lonely…he looked broken. Angry and sad and utterly alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Gold’s pawnshop looked like it might have been empty. It was early and there were no lights on inside. But the sign was turned to ‘open’ and Belle slowly opened the door. The small bell jingled as she entered and she stood by the door, waiting for Mr. Gold.

The store wasn’t a new place for her, she’d been here numerous times as a child. She’d stood, bored, at her father’s side, indifferently looking at the various trinkets inside the displays. Most of the items never changed, it seemed. Even now, Belle could pick things out that had never left their places.

“Belle,” Mr. Gold leaned out from the back door and she smiled at him.

“Hi.” She stepped up to the counter and he raised an eyebrow.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“Uh,” Belle tapped the glass as she spoke. This was more awkward than she would have imagined, kind of like when she’d first asked out Grant. But she wasn’t _asking him out_. Mr. Gold came over for dinner weekly. She swallowed, “Are you coming to dinner tonight?”

Mr. Gold toyed with his cuff, pulling at his sleeves, “No, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You already have plans?”

“No,” he said and gave his sleeve a final tug. He was irritable today, Belle could tell; he wasn’t even trying to act pleasant to her.  “Is there anything else?”

“…No,” said Belle.

“Then I would appreciate it if you could leave me be then,” he snapped. “I’m rather busy right now.”

Tapping his fingers, Mr. Gold waited, expecting her to turn away. But his dismissive tone angered her—more than it should have. She was trying to do something nice for him, trying to give him some kind of company which she knew he craved.

“Well, if you change your mind and stop acting like a bastard,” she said, giving him a pointed smile, “then you’re welcome to come.”

The only reaction he gave was the slight furrow of his brow, as if he were more confused at her rather than angered or surprised.  But she smiled again and even gave him a little wave goodbye.

Belle spent the day at the library. She volunteered there on days her father didn’t need her. It was a slow day and Belle’s duties were finished by lunch. The rest of the day, she was able to spend sitting at the desk with a cup of tea and start reading a fairy tale book.

It was almost time for the library to close for the night when the bell above the door dinged. It was their first customer in almost two hours and Belle turned, cheerfully about to greet them when she saw it was Mr. Gold. Her smile falter, but didn’t vanish completely.

“What can I help you with?”

Awkwardly, he held up a book and limped toward the desk. “I’m here to return this.” He set it gently on the countertop and Belle looked at it. She didn’t remember ever seeing it here, but it had the barcoded sticker.

“I, uh, I don’t remember you checking this out,” Belle said, scanning it.

“Yes, I believe I checked it out before you moved back.”

Belle gaped at the computer screen. Before she moved back was an understatement. “It says this a year overdue.”

“Yes. Well…” He licked his lips before finishing, “I lost it.”

“You probably should have kept it. It would have just been billed to you directly for the book, but now I have to fine you…”

“Yes, of course,” He dug in his back pocket for his wallet and waited for her to tell him the amount.

“Eighty-five dollars,” she said, hesitantly. Mr. Gold paused, but with a nod he pulled out a bill and handed it to her.

“Keep the change.” It was a hundred dollar bill and refused to take the extra money when she tried to hand it to him. After she finally accepted the money, he still stood before the counter.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“…No. I, uh, I _was_ wondering if that dinner invitation was still open.” The words seemed to be paining him to say, like asking her took tremendous effort. And there Belle could see it. The look of an extremely lonely man, who hated that he had no one in his life but desperately wanted to be loved.

“Of course,” Belle said and she set the book aside to be filed later. “I just need to lock up and you could walk me home if you wanted.”

Mr. Gold smiled and gave her a nod. He watched her lock the door to the library and when she’d finished, immediately started walking. Walking next to him felt strange. They were alone, walking side by side, on the street at dusk. It felt like something she would be doing with Grant. But there was no reason for it. It was not a date.

“So, what were you doing this morning?”

“Oh, um,” Mr. Gold glanced down at his feet. Belle could have sworn that he looked embarrassed, perhaps regretful, of that morning. “I was taking inventory. And it appears something was stolen last night.”

“What was it?”

“An antique clock. Worth almost 300 dollars.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“I had a buyer ready too.”

“Do you have security tapes? Or something like that?”

“Broken,” he said, shaking his head. “I—that’s why I was such a bastard this morning.”

“Ah,” Belle said, laughing. “I would guess that could put someone in a bad mood.”

“Yes, well…I…” He licked his lips. It was difficult for him to admit it, but Belle wanted to hear him say it. “I apologize,” he eventually managed and Belle smiled, putting a hand on his arm.

“It’s alright,” she said and he smiled back at her. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

Just as the words came out, she regretted saying them. Why should she have any reason to be glad? It was becoming more and more date-like in her mind and she hoped to God that he wasn’t feeling the same. Not that she would mind dating him. He was more of a gentleman to her than any other guy she’d ever dated. And he had an air of sophistication about him with his cane and suits. One which Belle was inexplicably attracted to.

Belle paused. Attracted to him? Since when was she attracted to Mr. Gold?

“Dear?” He had noticed she’d stopped. They were just coming to her driveway and Belle quickly looked down into her purse.

“Just, uh, looking for my keys,” she muttered and hurried up to the door.

The house was dark; her father must have still been at his shop. Mr. Gold followed her inside and she tried not to look awkward as she set her purse on the couch. “I’ll start dinner.”

“Would you,” he said and Belle watched him take off his jacket and hang it on the coat rack, “like some help?”

“You cook?”

“Of course. I’ve lived alone for the past twenty years. I have to know how to cook,” he said, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Okay,” Belle turned before he could see the sympathetic look she gave him.

He followed her into the kitchen, going immediately to the cupboard. He knew his way around their kitchen, but she couldn’t remember a time when he’d been in here. While she stood at the stove to stir the pasta, he assured her he could make the sauce on his own. _‘There would be no need for the bottled rubbish’._

Moe arrived just as Mr. Gold was setting the table.

“Gold,” he said. Though he didn’t look unhappy, he didn’t look really pleased to see Mr. Gold. Her father looked tired and she knew he had planned to eat something small and go to sleep.

“Yeah, I invited him for dinner,” Belle said. “It’s almost ready.”

“Good,” he said.

“Hope I’m not intruding,” Mr. Gold said, standing back from the table.

“Oh, no. I just can’t say I’ll be awake for much longer.”

“I won’t stay long,” he promised.

Belle brought over the pan and set it down as the two men took their seats. She sat next to Mr. Gold, who had already started to fill her glass.

For most of the meal her father was quiet. He really did look exhausted. The food on his plate was eaten slowly. Belle didn’t mind her father’s silence. Usually, she would be left on the outside of their conversation. His tired quietness gave her a chance to actually _talk_ to Mr. Gold. More than small talk.

The one time he mentioned his wife, he noticed her expression though she tried to keep her face blank. “Your father’s told you about her, no doubt?”

“He’s mentioned it.”

“Well, don’t look so uncomfortable, dear,” he said sipping his wine. “There’s no need to tip-toe around the subject.”

“So, where is she now?”

“Dead. Caught some tropic fever and died.”

“Oh—”

“That’s what happens. She never got vaccines because she knew I would track her down if she did. Make her face her son.”

Belle didn’t ask about his son. A wife, who he resented, was different from a son he missed. If she were to ask, she knew it would not be received well.

“Well, I should be going,” Mr. Gold said, eyeing Moe propping his head up on his wrist. His eyes were closed and Belle laughed, standing before her father could start snoring.

She stood awkwardly by as he buttoned his coat at the door. “Thank you. For inviting me.”

“Yeah,” was all she could think to say. But he continued as he wrapped a scarf around his neck.

“Your father is the only person I really consider to be my friend, but,” he paused, looking her over as he licked his bottom lip. The gesture was almost timid and she got the awkward feeling again of being on a date. One that had gone well, but still a date. The awkward parting, whether to kiss or not to kiss. 

“Well, I consider you my friend,” she said with a nervous laugh.

He chuckled back and tapped his fingers against the head of his cane once. “Well, thank you again,” he said, reaching to open the door.

“Yeah, goodnight,” she said.

Nodding once before leaving, he barely met her eyes. Her father still sat at the table, sleeping on his hand.

“Dad,” Belle called softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He muttered something as he stood, but Belle didn’t understand and didn’t answer.  

Belle wasn’t tired. So she went back to the kitchen and tidied up what was left before sitting to read. IF she read long enough, she would make her drowsy enough to sleep.

She tried to concentrate on the book, but her thoughts kept wandering. Wandering to Mr. Gold. When had he become anything other than her father’s friend? When had she suddenly noticed his hair or his eyes?

The rose, she decided. If she had to pinpoint a turning point, it had been when he’d handed her the rose. It wasn’t something that just anyone would do. It was _romantic_ and it made her wonder why he’d done it. To him, it had probably meant nothing and she was completely overanalyzing it. He hadn’t even give it to her, more handed it back to her as he left.

Belle sighed, rubbing her eyes. She was starting to get a bit sleepy, but she really wished she could make out what the book was saying. She closed it anyway. Whatever there was to read, it would keep until she could concentrate.

She could at least try to lie down. But a noise stopped her just as she reached her door. A thud in her father’s room. It didn’t come again and she almost brushed it off. She should check, though. If he’d fallen out of bed, he would be sore in the morning and unpleasant the entire day.

“Dad?” she asked, cracking his door open. “ _Dad_!”

He was on the floor, but he was sprawled on his stomach, lying in halfway in the bathroom. Belle rushed to him. He was wheezing into the carpet and lay on his hand as it clutched his chest. With a good amount of effort, she managed to roll him onto his back. There was barely a pulse in his neck, and she quickly assured him she would be back and ran to get her phone.

The nine-one-one operator assured her they would arrive soon, and she sprinted back to her father. Belle lifted his head onto her legs, frantic, but unable to do anything that would really help. Her father winced with every ragged breath and she blinked back tears.

When would the paramedics get there? This town wasn’t big and they lived not more than ten minutes from the hospital. Her father was pale and sweating and Belle had the sinking feeling he couldn’t last much longer. She knew a little of CPR. Panic made it hard to remember, but she would be able to do it until help arrived.

Her worries were unfounded. Within the minute, paramedics rushed into the house, gurney and all. She thought her nerves would calm once they’d arrived, but the ride in the ambulance was just as tense. Here, there was even less she could do. She sat quietly in the corner, not even able to hold his hand as the paramedics moved about around him. When they finally arrived, she could barely walk she was so relieved. They hurried him away, leaving her standing in the hallway.

For a long moment, she stood there. It was late and there were only a few other people waiting. Turning, Belle ran her fingers through her hair and sat in the closest chair.

It was late, but she couldn’t be alone. If she sat here much longer, she would start to sob and might not be able to stop. Ruby was the first person she called. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. She dialed again, knowing she could wake Ruby up if her phone rang enough times. This time, it rang twice and was switched off.

Jefferson was next. She even called Grant. No one answered. Frustrated, she fisted her fingers in her hair as she stared at the screen. Why wasn’t anyone answering her? She never called anyone this late and this was an emergency. She _needed_ them.

Under Grant’s name was a name she’d not wanted to call. Gold. But it was something. Someone who might come sit with her.

The phone rang more than five times and just as Belle was about to give up, she heard the receiver pick up. “’Ello?” Mr. Gold asked, his tired accent coming through thick into her ear.

“Oh, thank God,” Belle sighed, her tears threatening to spill over.

“Belle?”

“My father, he—he’s had a heart attack. And no one else is answering and I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Of course,” he said and she could hear him moving around. “I’ll be right there, dear.”

“Thank you,” she said, closing the phone. He probably hadn’t even heard her, but she leaned her head back and waited.

It was hard not to remember where she was when announcements were made every few minutes. The chair was cushioned, but it was anything but comfortable. There was even a smell that hung to the walls. Belle squeezed her eyes closed; she would not cry. Her father was here now. He was at the hospital. Mr. Gold was on his way. She wouldn’t be alone.

“Belle.”

Her eyes snapped open and Mr. Gold stood over her. “Mr. Gold!” She jumped to her feet, almost going to hug him, but stopped herself. “Thank you for coming.”

He only nodded and gestured for her to sit back down. “Have they said anything?”

“No,” she said, holding her head in her hands. She suddenly felt so tired. Now that Mr. Gold was finally here, she felt as if she could release all her pent up tension.

“And how long have you been here?”

Belle shook her head, “Fifteen minutes?”

Laughing once, Mr. Gold said, “Took me that long to get here, love.”

“Oh. I—I don’t know.”

“It…it’s alright,” he said and she felt him place a hand on her back. He rubbed down her spine a few times, “It’ll be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to DelilahBlueEyes for being my lovely beta <3


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